Zombie in Z Minor
by Doctor McFly
Summary: Episode Four: Following the clues Doc Brown left behind, Marty and the Doctor travel to Austria in the 18th century, where the walking dead are waiting for them. TBC in Episode Five: Hello Sweetie!
1. Wolfy and the Gang

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 1

Saturday

December 18th

1773

The three court musicians found their way to the same pub every Friday evening. Not yet 18 and given freedom for the first time was a potent combination for these young men who were just beginning to make a name for themselves. Their days were music and their nights were women and each one kept the secret from the others that they alone would become a great composer.

When the entire world is laid out at your feet, it's easy to not watch where you step.

As the day rolled over to the next they gathered their things and while still humming the sonatas trapped in their minds to each other they stumbled into the December night. By now the streets were mostly quiet, here and there a lone carriage made its way past and sometimes in the distance you'd see a man making his way home, but for the most part the streets of Salzburg belonged only to the three musicians and the music they sang to brighten the stars.

The smaller of them lost his footing and fell fast first into a shallow puddle in the cobbled street. His friends burst out laughing.

"Come on Wolfy, get up," the taller man, Jens, yelled at his friend. He wasn't just the tallest of the three; he also had broad shoulders and by far looked the strongest of all the court musicians who worked for Prince-Archbishop Colloredo. His powdered wig fell off his head as he bent down to help his friend up.

The last of the three, Ludolf, leaned against the building and laughed at his friends as they tried to gather themselves up. Ludolf's own wig was shoved into his pocket and his dark hair fell into his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath from laughing so hard.

"You two are pathetic!" He chided him.

Wolfy stared at Ludolf with his large, intense blue eyes. He was a waif of a man, but when he stared at you with those eyes you'd get a chill down your spine, as though it wasn't a human looking at you, but an actual wolf. When his father gave him the name Wolfgang, it must have been after he had stared into his son's deep blue eyes.

"You could-" Wolfgang hiccupped "-could help."

"Oh, you two seem to have everything under control."

They were finally relatively steady on their feet. Mozart plopped Jens' wig back onto his head – backwards – and the three continued on their way, gleefully singing at the top of their lungs as the December chill set into their skin.

"Wait, wait," Jens held out his arms and stopped his two friends as they passed over a bridge. He giggled, pointing: "Look."

Wolfgang and Ludolf laughed as a man stumbled across the bridge towards them, clearly even drunker than they were. He moaned as he zigzagged across the cobblestones. Ludolf began to mimic him, moaning as he bumped into his friends.

"My god I hope we don't seem like that to sober people," Wolfgang muttered to his friends.

"Wolfy, you always seem like that to sober people."

"Are you saying I'm-" hiccup "-I'm never sober?"

"Are you?" Jens asked.

"Ask me tomorrow when-" hiccup "-when I'm pinning you-" hiccup "-to the ground."

"_You_ want to wrestle _me_?"

"Come off it, Sir Mozart," Ludolf teased, "you wouldn't even be able to beat me in a wrestling match."

The three of them were no longer watching the man stumbling towards them, they stood in a circle laughing with each other, not even hearing the moans that only grew louder as the man got closer, and closer…

"What?" Jens said as he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the drunken man standing directly behind him, his face now held up to the moonlight, staring directly into Jens'. Jens was taken aback, he breathed in sharply. "Oh my lord Jesus…"

The stranger's face was pale and had a sickly yellow colouring. His skin hung loose off his bones like an old man, but he didn't look like an old man; instead, he was like a dead thing whose skin has begun to rot and fall off. He had heavy dark circles around his blank, dark eyes that seemed to bulge out of his skull. He opened his mouth to moan again and Jens could see his brown teeth, the gums shriveled and pulled up, giving the man the jaws of a lion.

The jaws opened wide and, as Jens stumbled to move away, suddenly lunged forward and clamped down on his neck.

He couldn't scream, the sound came out like the gurgle of a sick stomach, so his friends screamed for him. Stepping back, too shocked for a moment to do anything until a sudden cascade of blood erupted from Jens' neck and began to drench the coat he'd only bought last week.

Ludolf reacted first. He ran up to the strange man and punched him in the ear, then grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him off as Jens' eyes began to wildly twitch and his knees started to give out.

Ludolf finally succeeded in pulling the man off, but most of Jens' neck came off in his mouth. Jens' head folded back and a shower of blood sprayed the man and Ludolf as they began to wrestle with each other.

Wolfgang watched the body of his friend crumple to the ground, unable to move or make a sound as Jens' eyes pleaded up at him for a moment longer, and then went blank themselves.

A scream from Ludolf woke Wolfgang out of his trance. The man, the front of him completely dyed in blood, had clamped his jaws around Ludolf's forearm.

Wolfgang ran forward and punched the man's face, his jaw unclamped and came off, just as a ring on Wolfgang's hand caught on the man's eye socket and a chunk of flesh dripped off his face, exposing dark rotting muscle and skull.

Wolfgang could feel himself screaming, could feel the burning in his throat, as the corpse of a man stared at Wolfgang without emotion of pain and began to lunge at him. Ludolf tackled the man, quickly scrambling back to his feet and kicking him in the face before grabbing his friend and running.

Ludolf pulled Wolfgang through the streets, leaving his scream lying amongst the two bodies. There was no direction and no destination, but as long as they heard the moaning on the wind they kept running until their lungs were ragged and their legs burned.

After an eternity of running they realized the moaning was gone and all they were hearing was the cold Austria wind cutting through them like that man's teeth and cut through their friend.

**To Be Continued…**

(I had a hard time beginning this chapter, because I really wanted my drunk musicians to be singing – only I couldn't find anything for them to sing! I don't know any traditional Austrian songs and trying to find one is like pulling teeth. There is a lot about history I don't know, and I tried to keep things a little vague simply because I knew I would get the specifics wrong. I'm sure there will be a lot of anachronisms in this story, but let's try to remember for a minute that this story has Mozart meeting zombies. I wasn't really going for historical accuracy here. I didn't make the nickname Wolfy up; I yanked it from the seriously anachronistic Amadeus. I'm not entirely sure if there's any historical merit to Mozart having a nickname other than Amadeus – but what friends call each other Amadeus? Also, as I edited this I realized I must have subconsciously been describing Jezza, Captain Slow and Hamster - Ten points to anyone who got that, not because I marvel at your knowledge of useless trivia, but because anyone who watches Top Gear deserves ten points in life.)


	2. Phone Home

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 2

Marty didn't say anything for a long time. He held Doc Brown's letter and just sat on the chair by the consol, just staring into the time vortex. Finally the Doctor cleared his throat in an attempt to get Marty to break out of his trance.

Marty looked over at the Doctor, who smiled cheerfully at him.

"I have something for you."

"Oh?" Marty asked uncertainly.

"You'll really like it," the Doctor ran to one side of the TARDIS and began pulling out random gadgets, looking them over for a moment and then throwing them away like worthless trash. Marty could only stare in bewilderment. Finally the Doctor found a thin, black rectangle slightly smaller than his hand.

He ran over to Marty and with a proud smile handed him the…

"Uh, what is it?"

"Well, it's a phone."

Marty held it up to the light. One side was flat and the other rounded with the picture of an apple someone had taken a bite out of on it.

"How is this a phone?"

"Oh right, I keep forgetting you haven't got mobile phones yet. This thing won't be invented in your time for another 20 years or so for you."

The Doctor pushed the only button on the phone and the flat side lit up. "It's a touch screen."

"Well that's really, uh, cool… but what am I supposed to do with a phone?"

"Call someone."

"Who?"

"Your parents, or maybe – well I was thinking you could call Jennifer."

Marty blinked. "Huh?"

"Look," the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the phone for a moment. "This phone is now tuned to 1985, about a month before we bumped into each other."

"You're kidding."

"Try it out."

Marty called up the keyboard on the phone and with no small amount of trepidation began typing Jennifer's memorized number into the phone. He held it up to his ear for a moment and then there was a click and a soft woman's voice spoke into the other end.

"Hello?"

Marty felt his heart freeze. For a moment he felt like it must be a trick and couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Hey, who is this?" The sleepy voice asked.

"It's- it's Marty."

"Marty?" There was soft laughter. "Are you calling from a payphone? You just left."

"Yeah, well, I had to tell you something…"

"You sound so far away."

"… Today, uh…" He was trying to figure out when this was. Was it before the DeLorean entered his life? Or after?

"Yeah, it was pretty crazy. You don't have to check up on me, I think I can get my head around this time travel stuff."

He was calling her the day he had come back to his own time after travelling to the old west, when he and Jennifer had seen the Doc fly off in his train time machine with his family. The day they had spent the entire day together just talking, about time and the universe and their life. It had been almost a perfect day, the last good day they had had together.

"What did you want to tell me?"

"I just, I want to see you again is all."

"Well not tonight," she laughed. "We'll talk tomorrow. I'm really tired, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," the phone felt heavy. He knew they wouldn't talk tomorrow, or the next day. "Tomorrow" was the day they started avoiding each other, because every time they looked at each other all they could think about was their future together, married, with _children_- What 17-year-old can suddenly handle being told their entire future is planned out?

"I'll uh- I'll call you later… I just want you to know I miss you, when you're not around."

"Oh Marty, you're sweet, but I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Yes, right… goodnight," Marty held the phone out and pushed the big red button. End. Without a word he handed the phone out to the Doctor.

"No, it's yours."

Marty stood up and for the first time walked over to where Jennifer was lying, and instead of looking around, jumped down next to her and pulled the blanket away to find her hand. He sat there for a moment, trying to pretend the warmth of his hand was her own. He so desperately wanted to hold her again, and he knew from this point on there could be no distractions.

"Hey Doc," Marty held up the letter still in his hand, "you should probably read this."

OOO

The TARDIS door opened and the Doctor stepped into the cool December sun. "Ah, Austria!"

Marty, who had found a long dark jacket that looked to him like it belonged in the 18th century, came out behind the Doctor. With his jean jacket destroyed and his shirt needing the blood washed out of it, Marty had finally taken the opportunity to dress for the time period with the clothes the Doctor had in his quite expansive wardrobe. Minus the wig, Marty was dressed in the very latest of Salzburg fashion – or so the Doctor had assured him.

The Doctor took a deep breath of air, then pulled out his 3-D glasses and put them on as though it were perfectly normal.

"Come on Doc, you look like you belong in 1955, not 1755."

They closed the TARDIS door and began to walk through the past. Marty was having a hard time appreciating being in Europe for the first time – let alone in a brand new century for him – with the Doctor acting so ridiculously conspicuous.

"1773," the Doctor corrected, "I think. Besides, these glasses are important!"

"Why?"

"I set them to pick up the radiation."

"What radiation?"

"Didn't I tell you about the radiation? Of course I told you about the radiation."

"You did not tell me about the radiation."

"I found this strange radiation signature around the alien spacecraft. I thought it was their craft, but there was no way that type of radiation could have come from that class-"

"Doc, cut to the chase."

"The radiation was coming from the robot it crashed into. I scanned the one that attacked you while you were changing and found the same radiation trace there."

"So…"

"So, I followed that radiation trace to this point in time. Your Doctor Brown listed Austria as one of his destination. The TARDIS managed to find a point in time in Austria where that same radiation existed."

"Wow… I'm impressed Doc."

"Well, it's about time," the Doctor grinned.

"So you can see the radiation?"

"Well, not yet, but it's out there."

"Oh great, that's useful. Really useful."

"More useful than sarcasm."

A man ran by them, nearly pushing them over.

"Hey, watch it!" Marty called after him, but the man ignored them.

The Doctor looked at Marty, a now familiar glint in his eyes.

"Doc, c'mon, we can't keep getting sidetracked like this."

"Whose getting sidetracked? I'm following clues," the Doctor took off running after the frantic man, and with a sigh Marty followed after.

OOO

A huge crowd had gathered on a bridge and curious people from all ends of the city had gathered to see what horror had trespassed there overnight.

As Marty and the Doctor pushed their way through the crowd he took off his 3-D glasses.

"Why take them off now?"

"This bridge is covered in the radiation."

"Jesus Doc! Shouldn't we get them out of here?"

"Doesn't anyone in the 80s know anything about radiation beyond nuclear bombs?"

"Uh, no."

"This radiation won't hurt anyone."

They finally made their way to the centre of the crowd where a line of officers were holding back the crowd, a body covered in a blood-soaked blanket lay on the cobbles.

"Uh, you sure about that?"

The Doctor pulled out a black wallet and opened it out to flash a piece of blank paper at one of the officers. The officer's eyes bulged for a second and he read the words off the psychic paper.

"Oh, sir," he moved aside.

"What is that?"

The Doctor handed the wallet to Marty. "Psychic paper, useful once in a while."

"It's telling me I should avoid rogue time agents."

"Hm," the Doctor took it back, "good advice. Excuse me, are you in charge?"

One of the officers leaning over the body looked up. "Yes. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," he held up the psychic paper.

"How did the Emperor hear about this so soon?" The chief stood up in shock. "He didn't need to send _you, _sir."

"He has ears everywhere," the Doctor played along, "and he wanted to make sure this was cleaned up as soon as possible."

"And who is this?"

"My, uh, assistant. What happened here? How did he die?"

"A savage attack." The officer's face seemed pale as he shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it. The neck wound looks like an animal bite, but his brains were bashed in as well. We have the culprit if you'd like to question him."

The officer pulled back the blanket, so the Doctor could see what was left of the man's head but the crowd's eyes were still shielded.

"WHOA!" Marty quickly turned around so he was no longer staring at the crushed skull.

"It's his, uh, first time. Could you cover that?" The Doctor turned to Marty. "You go question this culprit. I'll look around."

"Doc, I don't think this has anything to do with us."

"Just go speak to him," the Doctor turned to the officer. "He needs to go speak with this culprit you mentioned."

"I'll send an officer with him," he turned to one of the uniformed men and after quick order he and Marty walked off.

"You say you've never seen anything like this? No strange deaths recently? Murders of any kind?"

"Murders, yes, but nothing strange. A mugging gone wrong, a drunk who drowned – we assume. I've never seen this kind of violence before."

"Why the two wounds?"

"What?"

"Well either of those wounds would be enough to kill a man. Why would his attacker feel the need to kill him twice?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't understand these criminals myself."

"Hm, always a good trait with a detective."

"Sorry?"

"I said: I just need to look around a little bit."

"Yes, of course sir."

The Doctor crouched down next to the body. He pulled the blanket to expose the man's legs and chest which, other than being covered in blood, were free of any signs of a struggled. This man had been attacked so fast there had been no time to struggle.

He put on his 3-D glasses for a second. The radiation was concentrated on the man's head. He switched his glasses for his regular ones and began looking through his pockets, trying to find some information on his identity.

There were no traces of time energy on him, so he clearly wasn't a time traveller. Also, this was hardly how the robot had attacked previously. So why was the head covered in this radiation? What was he missing here?

He spotted a small notebook underneath the man, the corner just sticking out and the top already covered in bright blood. He flipped through the pages. The dead man must have been a musician or a composer, the pages were covered in hand written musical stanzas, bits of notes the Doctor knew would now always remain a patchwork of what might have been a beautiful symphony.

At the front of the book in neat handwriting was the name Ludolf Hochstrasser, and beneath it an address.

**To Be Continued…**

(This opening scene was very much intended to be at the end of Episode Three, only it just wouldn't fit, so it found its way here. Chronologically it hasn't moved, but story-wise there just needed to be some space after Daisy read Marty's letter. And that is how an ending can become a beginning. I've decided to go for broke with this episode. In every new season of Doctor Who there's an episode where they meet a famous person and an episode where they meet a mythological creature – which always turns out to be aliens – and just to meet my quota I figured I'd shove 'em together. More on why I picked Mozart in another chapter, but I will try to explain my choice of zombies here: It took maybe a little over a second to realize zombies were the way to go. For starters, it's highly unlikely Doctor Who will ever touch zombies with a ten foot pole – I mean real zombies, gory, chomping, guts and blood everywhere zombies. Secondly, I realized I had a chance to do something kinda crazy and awesome here. I love writing gore and fight scenes and I've never written zombies before, so it's a fun little challenge. Also, just the sound of Mozart and Zombies sounds fantastic. You know, phonetically, because of the Z. It was meant to be. So yeah, if you can't tell by now this episode will be gory, I might as well spell it out: There will be blood.)


	3. I Saw the Devil

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 3

Marty was so eager to get away from the body that it wasn't until he was sitting in the carriage with the officer and moving through the streets of Salzburg that he realized he was off to meet the murderer.

He wanted to jump out of the carriage and run as fast as he could, but he knew he would get lost. At least this way the Doctor would know where to find him. Marty tried to keep his calm as the officer escorting him sized him up.

"Is it true? You were really sent by the Holy Roman Emperor?"

Marty almost asked if he meant the Pope, but he decided to try and play it cool.

"This is top secret stuff. I can't answer that," as cool as he could manage under the circumstance anyway.

"I'm on your side, aren't I?"

Marty shot him a look and the officer interpreted the stress in Marty's eyes for intensity and let the matter go.

They finally pulled up in front of the station and as Marty stepped out he finally looked around at the grand buildings of this 18th century city. It looked just like the movies, only there were no cameras or electric lights anywhere. These buildings probably still stood in his day, but here and now they seemed fresh and vivid.

"This way sir," the officer led him into the building and down to the basement. They were almost instantly plunged into darkness. Very few candles were on the walls here to light the jail cells.

The officer stopped at the last cell door. Inside a young man in his twenties was huddled in a corner, holding his knees up to his chest, rocking back and forth.

"We haven't gotten any information from him. Not even his name," the officer unlocked the cell door and held it open for Marty.

Marty cautiously entered the cell, the officer closing it behind him.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To be honest sir, I don't like the feel of him. I'd rather wait outside. Just call us when you're finished," he locked the door and walked away.

"I don't know what's worse, aliens trying to cut me up or being locked in jail with a murderer," Marty muttered to himself as he looked over at the man.

It was hard to get a good look at him with his face burrowed into his knees, but the murder suspect had long dark stringy hair that fell into his face.

"Um… hi…" Marty struggled to find the words. He didn't know what to say to a murderer or how to get information out of one.

The man continued to rock back and forth, ignoring Marty. Despite his better judgment he took a few steps forward, until he could hear a noise coming from the man. He was muttering to himself.

"Can you, uh, tell me what happened?" Marty reached out to touch the man, trying to get his attention, but before his fingers could even brush his shoulder the man's head snapped up and he glared at Marty with clear dark brown eyes.

"I did not kill him!"

Marty jumped back, trying to keep his cool and not look startled.

"Okay, okay. Just tell me what happened. That's all I need to know," he hoped.

"I was going to work," his eyes wandered away, glazing over as he fell into memory. He kept rocking, back and forth, back and forth. "I'm a baker's assistant. I… I crossed the bridge and I found him lying there. I thought he was a drunk at first, passed out… I thought he might freeze to death… so I… so I went to wake him up…"

He closed his eyes, unable to go on.

"It's okay. It's over now… right?"

"How can it be over? How can I ever forget?" He locked eyes with Marty.

"Forget what?"

"His neck was covered in blood and… and… half of it was _gone_. He was dead. He couldn't have been alive. Couldn't! Couldn't…"

Marty could see he was drifting away again, so he crouched down and locked eyes with him.

"What happened?"

The man opened his mouth to speak, then immediately snapped his jaws shut. He did it twice, then a third time before continuing his story. "I could hear the noise, but I couldn't tell where it came from. I was in such a panic… I thought they were footsteps… but they were so erratic," he snapped his jaws again and Marty began to feel uneasy.

"Snap… snap… this sick cracking noise of wet and teeth and…" He closed his eyes. "Oh my merciful Jesus. What demons have you unleashed upon us? What sins have we committed?"

Marty leaned back slightly. "What was it?"

The man stopped rocking, and looked at Marty with desperation.

"His eyes looked into mine, bloodshot and horrible and his jaw was opening and closing… biting at air, at nothing… but the way he looked at me, I knew. I _knew_! He was trying to bite me!"

Marty felt pale.

"That man was still alive with half his neck chewed off?"

He shook his head wildly, leaning forward. "He wasn't a man, wasn't human. He was dead, but still living. A demon. A demon! I knew I had to be brave, knew I had to do the Lord's work, so I found a stone, and I broke open his skull!"

The man jumped to his feet and Marty almost fell backwards. Marty scurried to the cell door.

"Hey!" He called for the officer. "Let me out!"

"I killed the demon!" The man was still yelling, stepping towards Marty. "You cannot punish me for doing the Lord's work!"

"C'MON!" Marty yelled as the officer scampered down the hall, the keys jingling in his hands. Marty could feel the man right behind him.

"Our Lord is punishing us for our sins! He unleashed the Devil on us!"

The door opened, Marty pushed the officer out of the way, slammed it shut behind him and backed up just as the prisoner's hand thrust out through the bars, reaching for Marty.

"I KILLED THE DEMON!"

OOO

Marty sat on the steps outside the building, staring up at the grey sky. It had started snowing, tiny little flakes, little puffs of white dust gently falling from the sky. He had never seen snow before, not in person. He couldn't help but hold out his hands and try to collect the little flakes, but the second they touched his skin and he started making out the delicate intricacies of each one – they melted and he was left holding cold water.

It wasn't long before the Doctor pulled up in a carriage, still looking fairly cheerful for a man who had just examined a mutilated corpse.

"I found a lead!" He beamed down at Marty, who looked up at him with weary blue eyes.

"Listen, Doc…"

"Look at this," the Doctor thrust the notebook in front of Marty's face, his finger tapping towards Ludolf Hochstrasser's name.

"Hochstrasser? Wait, that name…"

"The same as the farmers the Sylcrat killed."

"That's a pretty crazy coincidence."

"There's an address. We need to go there and figure out what exactly the connection is," he started walking away, heading for the carriage.

"Wait, Doc," Marty jumped up and grabbed the Doctor's arm. "I talked to the guy they have locked up for killing him."

"And?" The Doctor turned around.

"I have a bad feeling about all of this. I don't know if that guy was crazy, but what he was saying… I mean, it sounds like…" Marty didn't want to say the word. Even to him it sounded silly, stupid. This wasn't some ridiculous double-feature grind-house picture he was in.

The Doctor jumped into the carriage. "Come on, we'll talk on the way."

Marty reluctantly got in after him. "I think we're barking up the wrong tree."

"Nonsense," the carriage started moving. "What other radiation filled tree do you see? This is the perfect barking up tree."

Marty looked out the window, staring at the snow, at the children running through it with their arms out, their parents or nannies calling after them with laughter on their voices.

"That guy said he was still alive with half his neck bitten off… that his head was alive, that his jaw kept snapping at him."

The Doctor furrowed his brow slightly. "Was he telling the truth?"

"How should I know?" Marty looked at the Doctor. "Do I look like an interrogator to you?"

"We're not far, we'll find the clue we're looking for at Master Hochstrasser's home."

Their destination wasn't far. A few uneasy minutes later they were pulling up to the tall building. The houses were all attached to each other, one long row of homes. They got out of the carriage and the Doctor knocked on the door.

A small, wrinkly old woman opened the door, squinting up at them.

"Good morning, may I help you?" She asked in a creaky voice.

"Does a Ludolf Hochstrasser live here?"

"Why, yes, he rents one of my rooms. What's this about?"

"We're investigating a, ah… thing," the Doctor held out his psychic paper. "Official business. Can we look through his room?"

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, yes, of course m'lord," she opened the door wide and let them both in, bowing her head slightly as they passed.

The house was finely furnished, but Marty could see the signs of old age everywhere, frayed edges and threads sticking out of chesterfields, faded paintings of men long since dead hanging slightly askew on the wall. She must have been a socialite who had fallen on hard times.

"Just what is that thing telling people?" Marty whispered to the Doctor.

"We may or may not be the Holy Roman Emperor's cousins."

"He's home right now, but of course he'll let you look about," she started leading them towards the stairs.

"He's home right now?" The Doctor asked. "You're certain?"

"Oh yes, that little friend of his brought him home. They both work at the court together," she began ascending a set of stairs. "I don't much like musicians myself, quite a rowdy bunch, but Ludolf is a good boy, always pays his rent on time. Sometimes he even brings me a flower."

She laughed.

"And who is this friend of his?"

"Oh, I can't remember, Joannes or something. I swear he gives me a different name every time I see him, but Ludolf is always out with him and the other one… Jens. Yes, that's right. Jens. Haven't seen him today though."

She stopped outside a door and gently knocked on it. From inside the room there was silence at first, but when she knocked again there was shuffling about and someone began muttering to themselves.

"Ludolf, there are some officials here to see you," she called out softly.

The door unlocked and opened slightly, a young man around the same size as Marty – if not thinner – stared at them with wild, wide blue eyes.

"He's- He's sleeping," the man who was not Ludolf stuttered.

"Oh, Joannes was it?" The landlady asked.

"Uh," he shook his head. "Wolfgang, but I'm a little busy right now-"

"Oh right," the lady smiled up at Doctor. "Oh yes, I remember. They're always calling him Wolfy. Little Wolfy Mozart."

**To Be Continued…**

(Mozart's name is by far the most confusing thing about him. Obviously, we know his name, but the thing is, it's not actually Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. He was baptized Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart, but he went by Wolfgang Amade Mozart and apparently to be ironic sometimes signed his name as Wolfgangus Amadeus Mozartus and somehow through the ages he ended up as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Or at least, this is the conclusion I came to after studying for about 30 minutes. So yeah, I wanted a character to be just as confused as I am over what his name really is. So, why did I pick Mozart? I knew I wanted them to meet a musician, because Marty is a musician. I decided to go for a classical well know musician, just because that made exposition easier. It was between Beethoven and Mozart, but I went with the later because I think his personality would get on better with Marty's and the Doctor's. Also, I love that fact that the movie _Amadeus_ would be something quite recent to Marty – seeing as that movie came out in 1984.)


	4. Little Wolfy Mozart

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 4

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart looked at Marty and the Doctor with an expression somewhere in between exhaustion and concern. He either hadn't slept the night before or had slept very little. His fine, fair hair fell in a mess about his face. If Marty didn't know better he would say he had been on a five-night bender to get into that kind of condition.

The time travellers found themselves speechless for a second. This was Mozart? _The_ Mozart? Finally the Doctor smiled.

"It is truly a pleasure to meet you," the Doctor held out his hand, but Wolfgang just regarded it uneasily for a moment.

"What do you want?" He muttered, his eyes flickering back and forth between them. He was clearly uncomfortable and the Doctor had an inkling that he was even trying to hide something.

"Master Mozart," the landlady said in disbelief at his rudeness. "These men are here on official business," she leaned in, practically hissing at him, "from the _Emperor_."

"What? What would he want?"

"We're looking for Ludolf Hochstrasser."

"He's… he's not feeling well. Neither am I, really I-"

The Doctor pushed the door open and Wolfgang didn't have the strength to keep it closed. With a quick thank you to the landlady before she could protest they entered the room and closed the door behind them, leaving the three men alone.

Wolfgang backed up, holding his hands behind his back, looking incredibly fragile and frightened in that moment. Marty quickly looked around the small room, decorated with the same faded rose furniture as downstairs, but here there were sheets of music scattered on nearly every surface and the curtains were drawn tightly, only letting a few slivers of light get in.

"I said he's sick," Wolfgang said defensively, staring at the door.

"Do you know why we're here?" The Doctor asked seriously.

Wolfgang looked away, shaking his head a little. "Maybe… I'm not certain. I'm still…"

"We found this notebook, apparently it belongs to your friend," the Doctor held the notebook and Wolfgang instinctively went to reach for it, then almost immediately changed his mind and hid his hands behind his back – but not before Marty saw a brief flash of red.

"Where did you find it?" He asked meekly.

"… Under the body of a man. He was," there was no easy way for the Doctor to put it, "murdered."

"Violently murdered," Marty added for emphasis, not liking what he may or may not have seen on Wolfgang's hands.

If possible Wolfgang's face became even paler than it had been when they walked in and he sank into a chair behind him, folding his arms so his hands remained hidden from view.

"Mr. Mozart-"

"I'm not married," Wolfgang looked up at the Doctor in a daze.

"Well, not yet anyway."

"What?"

The Doctor held the notebook out again. "Take it."

Slowly, his hands trembling slightly, Wolfgang reached out and took the notebook from him. He could no longer hide that his hands covered in dry blood. The three men looked at each other in silence.

"I tried to wash them," Wolfgang stuttered, "but I couldn't get them clean."

"You knew the man who was murdered, didn't you?"

"I swear I didn't hurt him. This isn't even his blood."

"I'm not saying you did. I just want to know what you saw."

Wolfgang looked away. "I thought maybe it was a nightmare… maybe I had just imagined the entire thing."

"Just start from the beginning," the Doctor sat down across from him, but Marty stayed standing, staring at a half open door to an adjoining room where he could just make out a bed…

"We were out last night, drinking."

"Who's we?"

"Me, Ludolf and… Jens. He was the one who…" he looked at the Doctor dead in the eye. "I had a lot to drink, but I know what I saw. As we walked home a man stumbled towards us. We thought he was just intoxicated, until he…" Wolfgang shuddered. "He bit into Jens' throat. Ludolf tried to stop him, but it was too late… so we ran…"

"The man… bit him?" Marty asked.

"He was mad."

"He might have been more than that," Marty muttered.

"What about Ludolf?"

"We were in such a panic, we couldn't think straight. We ran straight back here, and Ludolf said he didn't feel well. He got hurt. It's his blood, I had to dress the wounds. I put him to bed and I was going to go to the police, but I was too frightened to leave and I must have fallen asleep-"

"All right, all right, calm down" the Doctor cut Wolfgang's rant short.

"Look, Doc," Marty stepped forward, "I didn't want to say this before and I hardly want to say it now, but c'mon. You've gotta know what this sounds like!"

"It sounds like we have to find the man who killed Jens."

"You're damn right we have to find him, but let's stop kidding ourselves. He isn't a man anymore!"

"What are you talking about?" Wolfgang asked uneasily, remembering the cold, blank stare in the man's eyes right before he attacked Jens.

"When your friend fought him, you said he got hurt. That's his blood?"

"Well, yes."

"Did he get _bitten_?"

Wolfgang became quiet. "Bitten?"

The Doctor tried to look at him reassuringly. "If your friend's sick, we might be able to help him."

"Yes, he bit them both," Wolfgang finally said. "Was he sick? Do you mean he might have been infectious?"

"You're damn right he was infectious."

"Marty," the Doctor warned.

"Aw, c'mon, just say it. They were attacked by a zombie!"

The Doctor sat up, looking down at Marty. "Don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing as zombies."

"That guy in prison said Jens' head was still trying to bite him, that's why he took a rock to him, that's why he was killed twice! Once someone's bitten there's nothing left to do but destroy the brain!"

Wolfgang was on his feet now, and although he was smaller than the other two men there was no denying the intensity in his eyes and it shut the both of them up instantly.

"What are you going on about? What in God's name is a zombie?"

"A myth."

"A disease," Marty said, "one that can't be stopped. You have to kill a zombie before it kills you!"

"Did you hit your head when you fell into that mine? You don't know what you're talking about!"

"I know that once you get bit that's it! For Christ's sake Doc, any minute now Ludolf in there is going to turn into one and-"

"Get out," Wolfgang whispered, but his voice shot through them like a bullet. The entire room suddenly felt colder.

"Look, just to be safe, we probably should take a look at your friend," then Doctor tried to recover the situation.

"And I said get out."

"Hey Amadeus," Marty nearly shouted back, "we're trying to help here."

"How did you…?" Wolfgang shook his head. It didn't matter who these people were or how they knew that name. "I don't know what you're going on about and I don't care how they do things in Vienna but I won't sit around here while you're going on about nonsense! Now get out before I throw you out!"

"We really are just trying to help-" The Doctor tried, but Mozart didn't give him a chance to finish.

"I don't need any help from you. I've told you all I know – all Ludolf knows as well – now leave me alone. For God's sake, I haven't even been able to wash my friend's blood off my hands. I need time."

"You haven't got time," Marty interjected, but the Doctor was already opening the door.

"Come on Marty."

"I know I'm right," Marty said in annoyance, but walked through the open door.

The Doctor looked back one last time. "If your friend does need out help, we won't be far."

Wolfgang moved forward and this time he was able to push the door closed and the Doctor out. He stood there motionless, leaning against the door, his head buzzing not just from his hangover, but from the images of last night and that strange word…

_Zombie_.

He stared at the door leading to Ludolf room, with no one speaking now he could hear Ludolf's ragged breathing. Was he going to die? They offered help practically in the same breath they had said something about destroying his brain. What could he do? How was he supposed to help his friend?

Feeling slightly nervous he moved into the next room and stared at Ludolf. He had been tossing and turning the entire night, his sheets were wet with sweat and the bandage Wolfgang had tied to his arm was completely soaked through with blood.

"Ludolf," Wolfgang whispered, nearly choking on the stale air. We walked over to the window, pulling open the curtains and cracking the window to let in some air.

The sound of breathing stopped.

He turned around. Ludolf hadn't moved, he was as still as death-

Wolfgang's knees nearly gave out. He knew Ludolf was dead even before he ran to his side and began shaking him. His eyes were open, empty, staring up at the ceiling. His skin was clammy and cold. He checked for a pulse. Noting Ludolf might have been dead for hours from the look of him, but he had been so sure he had heard him breathing…

He reached towards his friend's eyes to shut them, knowing he had to accept this, knowing he had to go down to his landlady and tell her that her tenant had died, that-

Ludolf's blank eyes twitched and locked on Wolfgang. The young musician only had a moment to scream as his friend lunged at him from the afterlife.

**To Be Continued…**

(Apparently the 6th Doctor has met Mozart – in an audio drama anyway. "My Own Private Wolfgang" is apparently about Mozart becoming immortal or something. I don't really know and I don't really care. I only consider the TV series as canon, so as far as I'm concerned the Doctor has never met Mozart before this moment. Hopefully they never meet him in the new series, that would bullocks things up a bit. Someone asked me if these were "Left 4 Dead" zombies. I have no idea what constitutes a "Left 4 Dead" zombie, but my story has nothing to do with that game. It was tricky trying to figure out how to make zombies in the Whovers, but hopefully it'll all make sense to you over the next few chapters.)


	5. The Walking Dead

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 5

Marty nearly walked into the landlady as he left the room. She had obviously been eavesdropping, but by her slight look of annoyance he could tell she hadn't been able to hear anything. She instantly perked up at the sight of him, flashing him her best smile as the Doctor closed the door behind him.

"Everything all right?" She asked politely.

"No," Marty muttered.

"Just fine," the Doctor interjected. "We won't get much more done here."

"Well I hope your trip wasn't in vain."

The two men looked at each other.

"No…" The Doctor turned back to her. "Not entirely in vain."

"Fancy a cup of tea then? Or must you be going?"

"Well, I think it's probably best we get going. I mean, we wouldn't want to be a trouble," the Doctor started taking steps down the stairs, trying to escape the stuffy house.

"Oh it's no trouble at all!" The landlady beamed, pushing past the Doctor and heading for the kitchen. "You just take a seat and I'll be right-"

A terrified scream cut through their conversation. The landlady stopped at the bottom of the stairs, clutching her chest in fear as Marty and the Doctor turned their eyes to the door they had just come out of, and without another word ran upstairs and threw it open.

No one was in the main room they had had their conversation in, but the door to the adjoining room was wide open and the two dashed through.

Marty couldn't help but pause a second as he took the sight in front of him in: Mozart, the composer, lying on his back, fear ripping through his wide blue eyes as he tried to keep another man at bay. The other man, obviously Ludolf, was on top of Mozart, his own eyes blank orbs that stared only in the sense that they looked forward and his jaw snapped open and closed continuously as he tried to pull the small man towards him with bloody arms in some sick attempt to bite him.

"Help me pull him off!" The Doctor yelled, rushing to their side, but Marty didn't have a chance of remaining rational at this point.

"KILL IT!" Marty screamed, looking wildly around the room to find a weapon.

Ludolf looked over at the two newcomers as the Doctor grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him off of Wolfgang, who quickly scurried to the other side of the room.

"He died! I saw him die!" Wolfgang was frantic, in shock, and as far as Marty was concerned: completely useless.

Ludolf stumbled against a table and emitted a noise somewhere between a hiss and a scream. He lunged at the Doctor.

"Stop! Let me help you!" Ludolf grabbed onto his arms and the Doctor found himself twisting to escape the impossibly tight grip.

It occurred to Marty that this zombie was new, fresh even. It hadn't begun the decay that would inevitably slow and weaken it. For all intents and purposes they were fighting a starving, full-grown man. He grabbed an end table and threw it against the wall, then again until he broke a leg off.

The Doctor had given up on rationalizing with the crazed man as the two tumbled to the ground. The Doctor fell hard onto Ludolf, who didn't flinch, but merely opened his mouth wider in an attempt to bite him. The Doctor managed to pull away, but Ludolf took hold of him again, and started pulling himself on top of the Doctor.

"Look away Doc!" Marty called as he swung the table leg at Ludolf's head, doing everything in his power to pretend it was just batting practice with a real ugly baseball.

The wood connected and Ludolf fell to the side. Wolfgang let out another panicked scream as the Doctor caught his breath. Marty looked down at the twitchy, moaning corpse. He only needed to see Ludolf's blank eyes looking up at him to get the courage to raise the wood again and bring it down on Ludolf's skull as many times as it took to smash it open on the baroque moldings like a watermelon.

Everything went silent, except for the drip, drip of blood coming off Marty's weapon.

"Fuck!" Marty let the table leg fall and took a step back from what he had done feeling something between disgust and relief.

Someone grabbed his collar and roughly pushed him against the wall. Marty raised his fists to defend himself, but it was the Doctor, desperately staring into his eyes with disbelief.

"What have you done!" The Doctor practically screamed at Marty. "You've killed a man!"

Marty pushed the Doctor away and barked up at him fearlessly. "Where the hell have you been? That thing was dead before I got to him!"

"How do you know!"

"I saw him die," Wolfgang whimpered in the corner. "He died – how did he-? I saw him… I saw them both… die…"

The Doctor looked away from both of them, his eyes suddenly wandering around madly. He began turning in place, his fingers running through his hair as his mind raced to find meaning in all of this.

"Oh no…" the Doctor muttered, biting his lip.

"Oh no?"

"I may have missed something, something big," he was starting to pace now, making Marty feel even more uneasy – if that was even possible at this point.

"What are you saying, Doc?"

The Doctor suddenly stopped, then turned around and looked at Marty.

"We need to move, fast," he took off out the door.

"For fu-" Marty was cut off as he started to follow the Doctor.

"Don't leave me!" Wolfgang struggled to his feet, still shaking after the whole ordeal.

Marty looked at him and motioned towards the door. "Well come on!"

They ran out of the apartment, where the Doctor met them and quickly locked the door with the sonic screwdriver.

"Is everything all right?" The landlady stood halfway up the stairs, looking up at them with more curiosity than concern.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. It is imperative you stay out of that room!" The Doctor ran past her.

"Yeah, by order of the Emperor and all that!" Marty added.

Wolfgang barely managed a sorry as he ran past her, still trying to get a hold of his senses and he chased the strangers onto the street.

The Doctor ran into the traffic of carriages and stuck his fingers in his mouth to whistle hard. A cab pulled up and everyone piled in as the Doctor gave the driver directions. Before they had even closed the door the cab took off and the three began to settle into the calm motion of the carriage.

"What happened in there?" Wolfgang asked, still clearly bordering the frantic.

"This is because of that goddamn radiation, isn't it?" Marty couldn't help but glare at the Doctor slightly.

"Yes, well, remember when I said it couldn't hurt people?"

"Yes…"

"Well, I had forgotten to take a few things into account."

"You were wrong."

"I was a little bit wrong."

"People are dead!"

"I didn't kill them," the Doctor leaned forward, slightly menacingly.

"Neither did I," Marty hissed.

"Just tell me what's going on!"

The two calmed down and leaned back slightly.

"The radiation doesn't affect you or I, or anyone-"

"Then how do you explain-"

"Let me finish! Anyone alive! This radiation reacts differently with dead flesh."

"How do you forget something like that!"

"It's hardly common! Someone must have died near to where this radiation is coming from, and once that flesh was poisoned, it charged."

"It reanimated! Into a zombie!"

"Not a _zombie_!"

"Call it what you like! It's the walking dead, right!"

"So… the dead are walking?" Wolfgang asked meekly.

"And it's mutated into an infection," the Doctor added, coughing slightly under his breath.

"Oh Jesus, Doc. There cannot be a zombie outbreak in 18th century Europe! It's a bit harder to fix than getting my parents to kiss at prom!"

"I can stop this, and you can stop gallivanting around like a bloody cowboy."

"I saved our lives back there!"

"All right! All right!"

"Where are we even going?" Wolfgang asked.

"To the source, of course."

OOO

By the time they reached the bridge where Jens had been killed, the body had mercifully been taken away. The crowed had mostly dispersed, now only a few remained to gossip about what had taken place the night before – if only they knew the truth. No one paid the three men any attention, even when the tallest of the three put on a strange pair of glasses with one lens that was red and the other blue.

"The trail's fading, we have to move fast," the Doctor said as they began following the dwindling trail of radiation.

Wolfgang had gotten over the fear he had felt before, but he stayed with the two strangers because he needed to know what had killed his friends. He needed to understand why they had died and he knew this was the only place he'd ever get the real answers.

They jogged along the river bank for nearly an hour before the Doctor finally stopped under a bridge, and hidden from view they found it – that damned robot again. This one was in perfect condition, save a six foot long steel pole plunged straight through its main processor like a steak through its heart.

"There, right through the core. A radiation leak."

"You are positive it can't hurt us?" Wolfgang asked, not wanting to get too close to the strange contraption.

"Uh," the Doctor decided he hadn't heard the question and took out his sonic screwdriver to maintain the damage.

"Where'd the pole come from?"

"Hm." The Doctor scrunched up his brow. "That's interesting. I don't think that pole came from this time, I think… it's part of a train."

"A train?"

"Looks like a johnson bar…"

"Would those be found on a steam train?"

"Yes but, they haven't been invented yet…" His head snapped towards Marty. "It could be from your friend's time… err… train."

"The Doc was here!"

"And made quick work of this machine."

"And unleashed a plague on us," Wolfgang spat.

"Hey, it's not like Doc Brown knew about this. Even _he_," Marty jerked his thumb towards the Doctor, "didn't know what all the effects of this radiation would be."

"Right, fine," Mozart found a slope and sat down in exasperation. "You better explain everything to me right now, because I want help you end this – I really do – but I can't do anything until I understand what is happening."

Before Marty could protest the Doctor took a step forward and stared Wolfgang down. "Fine, but you best save your questions until the end because we're running out of time. Now, how much do you know about the time vortex?"

**To Be Continued…**

(I talked about swearing before, so all I want to say here that I've never thought more about the right place to put the word "fuck" in a story before. It wanted to come out a lot earlier, but I was really keen to save it for this moment, lol. I watched a few episodes of The Walking Dead to get into the mood to write this chapter, and while I can't say that helped much, it did make me change Marty's weapon from a letter opener to essentially a bat. There's just something so desperate and feral about killing a creature with a blunt object. I've been ridiculously sick for the past two weeks, so I'm not entirely sure how well these chapters came out in my delirium, but I'm just happy that I actually managed to make my deadline in such a state. Who knows, maybe being this sick helps me get into the zombie mindset better.)


	6. Dom of the Dead

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 6

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was still mulling over the concept of time travel as he walked into the TARDIS and looked around the impossibly large room inside the tiny blue box.

"Doc, won't knowing all this stuff kinda mess him up?" Marty asked the Doctor quietly next to the consol, their long coats now hanging behind them on the rail.

"What? More than flesh-eating walking dead?"

"Just call them zombies."

"They have a type of radiation sickness, now stop bothering me I have many insanely complicated calculations to calculate in order to track the remaining zo- flesh-eating walking dead," he started to seemingly randomly grab at levers and push buttons.

"What makes you think there's still only one out there?"

The Doctor was silent. "All we need to do is get one live – well, you know what I mean – sample and from there I can figure out a cure."

"To… change them back to people?" Wolfgang snapped out of his daze and asked.

"No. I'm afraid those who have succumbed are beyond help now – but we can still stop them from infecting anyone else."

"I need a weapon," Marty muttered to himself and started rummaging through the TARDIS.

"I don't keep weapons."

"You must have _something_. Do you ever play sports?"

"Uh, take the stairs over there, three doors down. I keep a few sporty things."

"Jesus," Wolfgang held his hands up. "Just how big is this place?"

Marty didn't want to waste any time. He found the room and grabbed the first thing that looked like it could be of any use. The thing he grabbed looked like a bat that had been run over by a car.

"The hell is this thing?" Marty called down as he descended the stairs.

"It's a cricket bat," Wolfgang replied.

"Is this a Europe thing?"

"It's an anywhere but America thing," the Doctor was holding a strange metallic contraption that looked like a gun and a dust buster cobbled together with wires and duct tape.

"And that is?" Marty stopped in front of him.

"Going to get our sample."

Marty paused a second. "Well? You done your calculations?"

"What? Oh, finished those ages ago," the Doctor punched the consol and it started swaying.

Wolfgang grabbed onto a railing, looking around wildly as the TARDIS sound reverberated through the domed chamber.

"What's going on?"

"We're travelling."

"What? How? Where?"

"I've tracked down a high concentration of the radiation."

"_High_ concentration? More than one, right?" Marty asked.

The TARDIS went still.

"Has something gone wrong?" Wolfgang looked around uncertainly.

"We've arrived," the Doctor stepped up to the young composer, grabbing his shoulders and staring him dead in the eye. "It would be best if you stayed here."

"What if you need my help?"

"I cannot stress the sheer importance of you remaining out of harm's way."

Wolfgang narrowed his eyes as he tried to dissect exactly what the Doctor was telling him.

"Marty," the Doctor called to his companion, running for the door.

"Right behind you, Doc," Marty rested his cricket bat on his shoulder. With a quick nod to the confused looking Wolfgang he ran after the Doctor.

The TARDIS doors opened to a large, dark room. They closed to door behind them and it took a moment for their eyes to adjust, and then Marty could only just make out the high arched ceiling and the detailed stone columns that reached up to it.

"The Salzburg Cathedral," the Doctor whispered.

"Great, we have to find a building with no lights."

"Don't need lights," the Doctor popped on his 3D glasses.

They moved through the dark cathedral. Marty hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. So little time had seemed to pass since coming to this godforsaken place. Why couldn't the sun have waited just half an hour longer?

The Doctor made his way to the altar, following an invisible path that led them around a corner, and there they both stopped as they found a figure standing in the dark, alone.

"One of them?"

"Oh definitely," the Doctor took his glasses off.

The figure was facing the wall, leaning against it, its head cocked awkwardly to the side. He tried to shuffle forward, but when he failed he let out a low moan.

"Careful," Marty muttered in a low voice. "Easy on their own, but if they swarm us we're finished."

"Who are you? Marty the zombie slayer?"

"Just a Romero fan."

"Figures," they started creeping towards the zombie and it only took a moment for it to react to the sound of their steps on the stones.

It slowly turned around, and they could see its stomach innards cascading down its black robes and its jaw hanging unhinged, its tongue wagging between its teeth, eager to taste their flesh.

"Jesus, it's a priest," Marty held up the bat.

"Don't do anything until I get my sample," the Doctor held out his tool, wishing he could have attached it to a stick. He wasn't too sure how close he wanted to get.

Suddenly the zombie lunged at them, hissing and gasping as it attacked. Marty stepped forward and wound up to bat it hit in the chest. It fell backwards, its arms still reaching out towards him.

"I need a _live_ sample!" The Doctor sprung forward, jabbing his instrument towards the zombie's head. He needed a brain sample.

"Do it quick!" The Marty stood over the zombie, waiting for the Doctor to finish so he could finish off the walking dead.

The Doctor's device made a wet clicking noise as it extracted the necessary sample, just as the zombie lunged towards the Doctor.

"Done!" The Doctor fell back and Marty stepped forward, swinging out the bat and smashing the zombie's head into the stone floor. The skull cracked and brain matter spilled out over his shoes. Marty quickly turned towards the Doctor, not wanting to take the gruesome sight in a moment longer and helped his friend up.

They turned to run back to the TARDIS, but when they did they came face to face with face more zombies, slowly shuffling towards them, their bodies in various stages of decay, but all kept snapping their jaws at the two men.

"Oh, come on!" Marty held the bat up, thinking that maybe if they got one down they could squeeze through the opening and make their way back to the TARDIS without getting bitten. Then three more emerged and from behind them Marty could hear more moaning coming closer and closer… "Europe sucks. It truly and honestly sucks like no continent has ever sucked before."

"We can still make it. We can push through on the right, make a dash for it."

"Shit!" Marty called out and made a run for it, knocking over the zombie on the far right – a woman still clutching a rosary in her hand – and pushed through, the Doctor by his side.

The zombies reacted faster than they could have anticipated though, their slow lumbering suddenly turned into desperate lunges and bony fingers started clutching at their clothing and as the decaying bodies moved in, escape was suddenly cut off.

Marty started swinging his bat wildly, but every time he knocked one down another would fill its place. They just kept emerging from the dark corners of the cathedral.

One of the zombies grabbed the Doctor by his head, its jaws snapping at his ear, close enough to bite down-

"Doc!" Marty called out in desperation, helpless to do anything, when suddenly a war cry broke out in the cathedral and a small figure body check himself into the zombie holding the Doctor.

They all fell to the ground in a heap. There was struggling as the two men tried to escape the clutches of the undead and Marty heard one of them call out in pain, but the zombies were slower to react than the living and didn't get up as fast as the Doctor and Wolfgang.

"I told you to stay in the TARDIS!"

"Just run!" Marty called out, batting a zombie away and emerging from the crowd. The three of them took off a full speed towards the still open TARDIS door, a bright light at the end of the tunnel. The zombie's moans had grown into a thunderous symphony of undead behind them, but there was no way they could catch up at this point.

They made it to the TARDIS, slamming the door behind them and collapsing in a heap, trying to catch their breaths once more.

"You crazy bastard," Marty smiled at Wolfgang, who leaned against the railing, clutching at his stomach.

"I couldn't just stay."

"Are you all right?" The Doctor recovered faster, walking over to Wolfgang and looking him over like he really was a medical doctor.

"I'm fine," Wolfgang backed up, but winced in pain as he did so. "I think I sprained my ankle."

Marty looked at Wolfgang's leg and saw something dark trickling down.

"Oh my god, that's blood," Marty's eyes went wide. "You've been bitten."

**To Be Continued…**

(The cricket bat is not a reference to Shaun of the Dead so much as it is a reference to something quintessentially British – which is exactly why Shaun of the Dead used one, so it might as be a direct reference even though it wasn't intended as one. I'm sure that makes sense… One of the fun things about writing Marty with the Doctor is that there's no need for explanations on how time travel and the time continuum works – Marty already knows! It does worry me that some people reading this might not know, but in that case I recommend watching the Back to the Future trilogy and save me from having to shove in unnecessary exposition. To explain the title, "Dom" is Austrian for cathedral. So enjoy my multi-language pun there.)


	7. Guitar Hero

Back to the Doctor

Zombie in Z Minor Part 7

"It's okay," Marty felt himself say. If anyone had asked him how his life had gotten to this point in time he wouldn't have known what to say, and yet he had the audacity to pretend that he knew where Wolfgang's life was going.

Wolfgang just looked at him with his wide blue eyes, stumbling back slightly.

"Just relax. Sit down," the Doctor practically commanded, guiding Wolfgang to a seat. He kneeled down to look at the zombie bite. He ripped open Wolfgang's trousers and the menacing mark glared back at him as blood oozed out.

"Oh god, it's deep," Wolfgang hissed.

"Not very – it doesn't matter. We just don't want the infection to spread quickly, so keep your heart-rate down."

"How?"

"Doc, you said you needed a sample, now go make a cure," Marty had finally gotten over his shock and walked over to them.

"Yes, because it's just _that_ simple," the Doctor looked at Marty in exasperation.

"It isn't?" Wolfgang asked in a small, scared voice.

"Doc… This is _Mozart_."

"You say that like it means something," Wolfgang laughed nervously.

The Doctor stood up; he grabbed Marty by the sleeve and pulled him over to the other side of the consol, whispering sharply in his ear. "I don't know how long the gestation period is. I don't know how long it will take to make a cure. Most importantly, I don't even know if I _can_ make a cure."

"What are you saying?"

"Keep him distracted, but more importantly: keep him calm."

Then with his sample he took off to another room to – hopefully – create a cure. Marty remained standing there for a second, not entirely sure what to do.

"Are you still there?" Wolfgang called out.

"Yes," Marty squeaked, then cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm here."

He walked back to the young Wolfgang, who couldn't have been much older than himself.

"Where's the Doctor gone?"

"He's going to make a cure. It's going to be all right."

"You don't look convinced."

Marty almost said: "Neither did the Doctor," but he held his tongue.

"I can't say I get much of this science stuff, but the Doctor does. If anyone can find a cure for science, it's him."

"I- I have to ask. The way you were speaking before… the fact that you knew my name. You said you were time travellers. Do you…? I mean, in the future…"

"It's probably best if you don't know too much about your future."

"But if you know me, it means I can't die here. It means I still have a future."

"Time doesn't work like that. When you go back, it changes things. We've changed things – really changed things."

Wolfgang smiled. "I never even thought time travel could be possible. What it must be like to spend each day in a different century…"

"A little disorienting… obviously."

"Why do it?"

Marty looked back towards the consol. "I can only speak for myself, but I need to save the people I love. I would give anything in the world to be back in my own time, going to school, playing my music… but I can't, not until we're finished."

"You're a musician?" Wolfgang was trying to smile, but his face looked suddenly pained and pale. Marty noticed he was beginning to sweat. A fever was taking hold. He was getting worse – fast.

"I want to be."

"I didn't realize we have anything in common."

"We don't. I mean our music is pretty different."

"What is my music like?"

"Uh… well you wrote it."

"I mean, the things I haven't written yet."

Marty wracked his brain trying to think of a composition by Mozart. It wasn't exactly his area of expertise when it came to music.

"I… can't."

"Then-" he winced in pain again, "tell me about _your_ music."

OOO

Marty kicked over the amp he had found in the TARDIS, smiling awkwardly at Wolfgang, who lay on his side now. His eyes were hardly able to focus on anything, and as his fever got worse he had started shaking slightly.

"I'm not entirely sure what you'll think of this," Marty hesitated as he plugged in his electric guitar, one of the few things he had grabbed from his car before taking off. He had never thought he'd actually need it, but he had been in such a daze he had just grabbed it. Somehow it had felt wrong to leave it behind. "This is a guitar."

"Yes, I know."

"Ah, guess they had these back then. Well, you didn't have one like this," he turned up the volume knob on the guitar and an electric hum filled the TARDIS.

He hit the first chord and the look of pain melted away from Wolfgang's face, replaced by one of sheer confusion. He wasn't entirely sure what song would impress one of the greatest composers of all time, but he was fairly certain a Huey Lewis and the News song might do the trick.

Wolfgang watched on, half dazed but unable to look away. He was dizzy and his leg felt like it was on fire, but for a few minutes all he could focus on was this young man jumping around, churning out music – if you could call it music – he could have never imagined in a hundred years.

It took a moment for Wolfgang to realize Marty had finished as the feedback continued to reverberate around the TARDIS, but as he looked expectantly at the composer Wolfgang finally smiled.

"That was… different… Does all music sounds like that in your time?"

"Well, the good stuff does."

"Oh…" He was suddenly hit by a wave of nausea and had to lay his head down. "You know, I'm not certain I feel so good."

Marty quickly took off the guitar and threw it down, the strings scratched against floor, but Marty didn't care. Wolfgang looked like he was going into shock.

"Are you all right? Are you in pain?"

"Don't let me die," Wolfgang desperately grabbed onto Marty's arm.

"I'll go get the Doctor. We're not going to let you die!" He ran out of the consol room and found the Doctor down the hall tucked away behind some incomprehensible computer screens.

"Doc! Tell me you're getting close."

"No. And what was that god awful noise just now?"

"Okay, my guitar's a little out of tune, drop it. Mozart ain't doing so good."

"What?" The Doctor looked up. "How's he doing?"

"He got bit by a zombie, how do you think he's doing? What have you got?"

"I'm not certain. I'm making headway, but without a test I can't be sure."

"We don't have time for a test!"

The Doctor grabbed a needle and extracted a clear green liquid from a test tube and ran out of the room with Marty right behind him. They entered the consol room and went stopped in shock.

"Hold this," the Doctor handed Marty a needle full of green liquid.

Wolfgang's eyes were open, but blank, staring up at the ceiling, and he was completely still…

"Oh my god," Marty whispered.

The Doctor ran to his side, checking his airway.

"He's not breathing."

"What?"

The Doctor started doing CPR compressions on his chest.

"Don't give him mouth to mouth, you might get infected-"

"Shut up and get ready."

"Ready for what?"

The Doctor gave him mouth to mouth and then returned to the compressions. "You need to inject that into his heart."

"Uhh…"

Wolfgang suddenly gasped and the Doctor held him down by the shoulders. "NOW!"

Marty hesitated a moment, then jabbed the needle into Wolfgang's chest.

Wolfgang screamed, his eyes focusing on the needle sticking out of his chest. "What is that!"

Marty let go and stepped back with a triumphant smile on his face. "Oh thank god, he's not a zombie!"

"We don't know if it's worked yet," the Doctor pulled out the needle, causing Wolfgang to scream again. "I'll need a blood sample. Hold him down."

"A what!" Wolfgang tried to struggle, but he was too weak. "What are you doing?"

"We're kinda fighting against time here. Don't make us fight against you too," Marty meekly explained, holding him down as the Doctor pulled up his sleeve.

"I thought you were time travellers!"

The Doctor stuck another needle into Wolfgang's vein and extracted a blood sample, then immediately ran back to the computers Marty had found him behind before.

Marty left go of Wolfgang and he rolled onto his side, moaning slightly.

"What did you just do to me?" His voice was hoarse.

"Saved your life… I hope."

OOO

The Doctor scanned the blood sample in anticipation. He knew if it came up positive that would be it. If the radiation were still present, he wouldn't have enough time to make a second antidote.

Marty walked into the room behind him.

"Well?"

"Give it a minute."

"Hey, you're the one always reminding me that there's a time machine. Time shouldn't be an issue… right?"

The Doctor just looked up at him, not saying a word, but Marty understood. The timeline was messed up enough without them going back and messing it up further.

Suddenly the computer flashed red, then blue, and the Doctor smiled up at Marty.

"I think we're going to get to hear Mozart's requiem again after all."

OOO

Wolfgang stood in the doorway of the TARDIS, looking rather uncertain.

"Is it really safe out there?" He turned to the Doctor.

"Well, for you it will be. We've still got a little-"

"A lot," Marty interjected, holding onto his cricket bat.

"A bit, to clean up."

"I can stay and help."

"You're recovering from radiation poisoning. I know you don't know what that means, but trust me: you need rest. Besides, they may not be able to infect you again, but they can still, well…"

"Eat you," Marty smiled awkwardly.

"I just…" He looked back outside, his voice sounded distant. "My mind is just buzzing – with all of this. I don't know if I _can_ go back. My friends… my whole world… It's all gone."

"It's still out there," the Doctor put his hand on Wolfgang's shoulder. "It may look different, but trust me, it's still there and it needs you. The music you write will touch millions."

"Will I really be remembered?" He looked at Marty.

"Hey, I don't even like classical music and I know who you are. Just, ah, you might want to avoid some guy named Salieri."

"I'll, uh, be sure to keep that in mind."

"You won't need it, but good luck."

"Thank you, for saving my life, that is."

"Anytime Mozart, anytime."

The composer took a deep breath and stepped out of the TARDIS. He still felt shaky and the December cold pierced his skin, but he knew there was no going back.

**To Be Continued in Episode Five: Hello Sweetie**

(Getting this chapter done while travelling was a lot harder than I thought it would be, a lot of that is because the outline for this chapter became problematic. How does one write about one guy playing music and one guy working in a lab and one guy being half conscious while keeping it interesting? All of these things work visually, but not necessarily in text. So I hope I did well with the media – and time – at my disposal. Also, the mood of this chapter is a bit of a 180 from the last one, so hopefully you guys didn't hate that…)


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